Feed the Birds
by RumChocolateSouffle
Summary: A bit of a twist on early!klaine with Mary Poppins in mind. The promo for 5x20 of them on the steps just made this oneshot pop into my head.


Blaine stood on the steps of St. Paul's Cathedral on a sunny afternoon. Checking his pocket watch, he noticed it was quarter to five. He promised he would be home at five for tea, but he really couldn't think about tea at a time like this. He'd tell his parents that he studied late in the library and lost track of time.

He just needed to _think_. He head was spinning with thoughts, and the warm air was not helping. He shrugged off his navy and maroon blazer and loosened his matching striped tie.

If his father only saw Blaine like this! He'd be sent straight to his room with no supper in no time. How dare he defy the exact uniform that is giving Blaine such a sound education at a sound university and the job that lads his age would _die_ for?

He scoffed at that thought. His father wasn't here now, and Blaine could look however he pleased. Here on the steps of the church, he could be whomever he wanted. He didn't have to keep up the air of being a future lawyer. He could spin and twirl and _sing_ like he enjoyed doing with his friends after class, an after school activity that _other_ future lawyers his age surely weren't participating in.

He sat down on the stone steps and placed his head in his hands. He heard the soft coo of a pigeon next to him as it pecked at feed on the ground. Looking up to his right, Blaine noticed a little old woman sitting on the steps a little distance away from him.

She sat on the steps throwing food to the birds around her from a pouch on her lap. She wore a long dress, obviously too hot for the warm weather. Perched on her head was a black hat and draped across her shoulders was a woolen shawl. The birds flapped around her, hungry for the bread crumbs she carried in her lap.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Blaine stood up and brushed his trousers, making his way over to her.

"Yes, dear?"

"Where did…where can I get food to…to feed the birds?" Blaine asked, unsure how to phrase his question.

"Feed the birds, tuppence a bag!" She cried. She smiled and Blaine noticed she was missing a few teeth.

Blaine stuffed his hands in his pockets and procured a bronze coin and gave it to the woman. She smiled and gave him a small pouch with feed in it.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Come feed the little birds, show them you care. And you'll be glad if you do. Their young ones are hungry, Their nests are so bare." She hummed a tune softly as she scattered the feed at her feet, the birds pecking at it eagerly.

Blaine sat down on the steps again, placing his blazer in his lap, and stuffed his hand in the knit pouch. He took out a handful of the feed and scattered it on the steps in front of him. A few pigeons that were crowding the woman flew over and landed near Blaine's feet, cooing as they ate the crumbs.

The soft coos of the birds were enough to clear Blaine's head for the first time in what felt like forever. His heartbeat was still loud enough that it rang in his ears. Something happened today between himself and Kurt, and Blaine simply could not make sense of it.

He had always been the best of friends with Kurt. Blaine knew when Kurt was watching him practice Teenage Dream with the fellow Warblers that he was special. That was Blaine's best performance of that song, and the fact that Kurt was in the audience was no coincidence.

Blaine's fondness for Kurt only grew, and they grew closer. Blaine was there for Kurt when he poured his heart out about being bullied at his other university. Kurt was there for Blaine when Blaine's father was trying to dictate Blaine's future.

But now, their relationship has shifted, and Blaine's head was swimming with _Kurt._ The look Kurt had on his face when he announced of their little mascot's death would not leave his mind. When silent tears began leaking from Kurt's eyes, Blaine had the urge to run up to him and wipe them away; but instead at the conclusion of Kurt's song, Blaine ran out of the room and came here to clear his head.

But yet, try as he might to clear it, Blaine's head was even more full of Kurt. He thought about the swoop of his hair where it was combed back above his forehead, and Blaine's fingers itched to brush the one stubborn strand out of his grey-blue eyes.

Blaine tossed more feed to the birds around him, thinking of Pavarotti. He supposed this could be his tribute to him, feeding other birds like this. He was a good little guy, inspiring Blaine with his constant song every day.

When he ran out of feed in one pouch, he went back to the woman and asked for another bag, handing her another two pence coin.

"Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag!" she said as she pocketed Blaine's coin and handed him another pouch.

As he fed more of the birds, he didn't notice that someone sat next to him, one step higher.

"I thought I might find you here."

Blaine jumped when the person spoke. "Kurt! Oh- uh, hello." He stood up a bit ungracefully and almost dropped his blazer in the process. He looked up at Kurt on the steps.

Kurt hopped down, reached into Blaine's pouch, and tossed some crumbs to the birds around them. "She's still there, huh?" He gestured toward the old woman. "I come here and buy a bag from her when I need to think, too. That's why I always carry a two pence with me." He showed Blaine the shiny coin that was in his pocket.

They stood and tossed the remaining crumbs to ground around them. Birds flapped all around them as they gobbled up the rest of the food. Kurt and Blaine left the cathedral and started to walk down the sidewalk in silence.

After a few steps, Kurt cleared his throat. "So, what did you think of my song?"

"I enjoyed it very much," Blaine said. "Is that a new one by The Beatles?"

"Sure is." Kurt walked a few steps ahead of Blaine and found a bench located under the shadow of a tree. He sat down and patted the space beside him for Blaine to sit. Kurt unbuttoned his own blazer, feeling the heat of the afternoon, and set it in his lap.

Across the small pond the bench overlooked, the pair saw a pavement artist crouched on sidewalk. His chalk was scattered all about him, the bright colors standing out against the gray cement. He didn't have to worry about what others thought of him. He was doing what he loved, and brightening people's days whilst doing it.

"I always like seeing their art when I'm walking. It's a pleasant surprise from the usual gray slabs of concrete," Kurt said.

"Me too."

"So would you like to talk about why you ran out of the room after I was finished? Are you alright, Blaine? You're not ill, are you?"

"No, no, it's not that."

Kurt looked at him expectantly, his eyelashes fanning his face beautifully.

"It's just…" Blaine took a breath. Perfect and wonderful Kurt was sitting before him, his best friend, who didn't care what anyone thought of him. "Watching you do Blackbird this week… There was a moment for me, about you." Talented Kurt, who was going to go far in performing and whose father did not care if that's the career he chose. "You move me, Kurt."

Blaine admired Kurt's determination and confidence, there was no doubt about that. But the feeling that was pulsing through Blaine's heart and was tingling at the tips of his fingers was not mere admiration, or a silly school boy crush. It was something more.

Kurt settled his hand on Blaine's. "Blaine, I'm not sure what this is between us… but you telling me this just reinforced it… and I feel it too," Kurt admitted. Color rushed to Kurt's cheeks and he laughed bashfully.

Blaine leaned forward the small distance separating them and kissed Kurt full on the lips. The feeling traveled all the way to Blaine's toes, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. He felt Kurt's other hand cup Blaine's cheek, pulling him impossibly closer, as Kurt parted Blaine's lips with his tongue.

They broke apart and it was Blaine's turn to laugh bashfully. "So…"

"So indeed."

"What does this mean?"

"I'm not sure. We just had a pretty good, snog. Now what?" Kurt smiled.

Blaine couldn't help the laugh that followed. It felt good to laugh like that. He didn't remember the last time he laughed so hard that his shoulders shook and his face was totally flushed. Kurt joined in with him shortly after, their laughs scaring the nearby ducks.

"Now, I think I want to take you out for tea," Blaine said.

"I'd love that. But first, I want to kiss you a little bit more." Kurt grabbed the loosened Warbler's tie still around Blaine's neck and pulled Blaine's mouth closer, and captured his lips in a searing kiss.

Across the pond, the pavement artist stood back and admired his work. The two lovers in his chalk drawing were embracing much like the gentlemen sitting across the pond from him. He took his pink chalk out once more and smeared a small amount on each of the man's cheeks in his drawing, attempting to capture the fullness and admiration for each other that both portrayed, even at this distance away. The color in the gentlemen's faces stood out against their pale faces as they kissed, and the artist wanted to capture that pure_ life_ inside them.

Someday the rain would wash his masterpiece away, but the artist knew that he would brighten the days of a few passersby, and that was enough for him. It was a jolly holiday indeed.


End file.
